


The Choice

by noydb666 (Elynittria)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-23
Updated: 2005-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elynittria/pseuds/noydb666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from "The End"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choice

He opened his eyes to find himself alone in a room filled with computer mainframes, consoles, and blank monitors. The room wasn't familiar, but then again, nothing was. He looked down at himself, taking in the khaki uniform and combat boots. There was a name patch on his shirt, but he couldn't read it upside down._Surely I ought to know my own name? What the hell is going on? Was I knocked unconscious somehow and woke up with amnesia?_

Suddenly, the answers to his questions flooded his brain. He gasped from the shock of the revelations and of too many painful memories flashing through his mind too quickly. Clutching his head as if the pain were physical rather than emotional and psychological, he folded up upon himself and sank to the floor. Breathing deeply once he was seated, he leaned his head against his bent knees and tried not to faint. Something was tickling his forehead; he reached up long fingers to scratch it, only to discover a squarish metallic object firmly adhering to his skin. _Oh no!_

"Arnold?" a voice asked. "Are you all right?"

_Of course I'm not all right, you blithering idiot! I'm dead!_ He couldn't get his mind around that concept, and at the moment, doing so seemed more important than answering an incredibly stupid question.

_I'm dead! I actually died!_

Then how can I possibly be thinking?

I'm not _thinking—it's a computer program. I just think it's really me thinking. Oh smeg, that's impossible. I can't think it's me if I can't think, and I can't think because I'm dead._

"Arnold? Can you hear me?"

_I think I'm going to go insane. . . _

"Arnold!"

"What?!" he exploded in an exasperated shout. As if it weren't bad enough trying to deal with suddenly realizing that he was no longer among the living, he had to deal with stupid computers that wouldn't leave him alone so he could fall apart in private.

"Oh, good, you _can_ hear me. I was starting to wonder," Holly said.

"If you're going to insist on bothering me, you could at least explain what happened—why I've been brought back as a hologram," Rimmer demanded, pulling himself up off the floor and turning to face Holly's viewscreen. "And where are the rest of the crew? Shouldn't there be someone here to oversee this...whatever you call it?" He gestured impatiently, not sure what to call his quasi-resurrection.

"All the crew are dead," Holly declared flatly.

"_All_ of them?!" Rimmer asked, aghast. _Please tell me I didn't kill everybody on board the ship... I tried to repair the drive plate right—I really tried!_

"All but Dave Lister, which is why I brought you back."

_Lister's alive! Thank god!_ He didn't want to examine too closely why he felt such relief that his excruciatingly annoying slob of a roommate had survived, so he told himself that his reaction was simply due to knowing that he wasn't quite as bad a mass murderer as he had thought he was a split second ago.

"I don't understand. How could my being here possibly help Lister? I'm a hologram, right? I can't repair anything on board ship or help with the navigation or anything..." _I'm totally useless—just like always, only more so._

"Dave will need company once he comes out of stasis so that he doesn't go insane," Holly explained. "That's where you come in."

"But Lister hates me!" protested Rimmer. "He won't _want_ my company!" _He never has in the past, that's for sure._

"Trust me—he will now. According to all my calculations, you're the perfect choice. Look, I've gotta go bring him out of stasis and get him up to speed on our current situation. Are you willing to take on the job or not?"

"What job?" asked Rimmer blankly, his mind whirling with too many thoughts and emotions to be paying close attention to what Holly was saying.

"The job of keeping Dave sane! Gordon Bennett, I suppose I _will_ have to check your hearing systems."

Rimmer hadn't realized he had a choice in the matter. He could stay as a hologram, never again being able to touch anything or eat real food, and be the designated companion for someone who hated him, or he could go back to being dead. Neither choice was particularly appealing.

_But maybe Lister will accept me after a while. I mean, I'll be the only person around—he'll_ have_ to get to know me, and then maybe he'll realize that I'm an OK person and treat me like a friend. It would be nice to have a real friend. . . _

Dream on, Arnold. No one's ever going to call you 'friend,' you miserable piece of shit—not even if that person is literally the last man alive.

I'll finally have a reason for living.

The only reason for living is that the alternative is worse. Quite frankly, in this case living with Lister may be the worse alternative. He'll make your life hell.

What, my life wasn't hell already?

"Well?" prompted Holly. "I haven't got all day."

"I'll do it," declared Rimmer, cutting off his internal argument abruptly.

"Good. I'm going to go revive Dave. Come up to the Drive Room in about ten minutes or so—he should be ready to meet you by then."

"I'll be there," promised Rimmer. _And I'll do my best to do the job right._


End file.
